Two AM
by kittycat69
Summary: Oneshot. "Even now when I'm closing my eyes and counting my breaths I can see his face in my mind's eye. I can't sleep because I'll dream of him and I can't stay awake because I'll think about him." Because Annie realizes the cause of her insomnia.


**a/n: As promised, this is part two of my three-part companion oneshot series titled **_**The Insomnia Trilogy**_**. Oh and this is now Annie's POV :) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Covert Affairs and its characters belong to USA Network (characters welcome). All rights reserved, as always. I just like to play with the characters sometimes!**

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><p><strong>Two A.M.<strong>

I counted the revolutions of my ceiling fan. The seconds between every minute for two hours staring at my alarm clock. I played the Mingus CD he burned for me to listen to when I was off on a mission and needed something to remember him by. _That_ was a splendid idea. He was delusional. He was sleep deprived and strung out on coffee.

The fan clicks every four hundred and seventy-one revolutions.

He didn't know what he was saying and I will absolutely _not_ spend another second awake at two in the morning wondering and obsessing—ugh, I need to go see him. I need to get in the car and drive across the city and sneak into his apartment and wake him up and ask him. I toss my blankets aside, sitting up in bed and moving swiftly to the door.

But what am I doing? It's two in the morning! I groan, dragging myself back to her bed. There is no way he'd be awake after yesterday's incident. He'd be dead asleep. Like I _should_ be at two in the morning.

He's so frustrating. And confusing. Ugh, he shouldn't be allowed to do this to me with my op approaching so rapidly. Mere days until we are half a world away and I can't _see_ his smile or hear his laughter without the help of a phone. Joan warned me that this mission could take weeks. Weeks without seeing Auggie would be torture and… what am I saying? This is not any different than anyone else. He is no different…

Oh, who am I kidding? It's two in the morning, and I can't even lie to myself at such an ungodly hour.

Now I understand why he took up coffee. I'd kill for something to keep me awake right now, because I'm in that sort of hypnagogic state and I can't seem to shake it. It's starting to make me sappy and wishing I had just stayed in his apartment all day with him. Sure, he looked rather out of it and he sounded terrible but as soon as he was back to sleep he looked so _peaceful_ and I wanted to share that with him.

There is absolutely _no way_ he could be in love with me. I'm not even in love with him. Sure I love him, but! But! I love Danielle, or Katia or Chloe or even Jai, too, right? Well, sure. Auggie's smile gives me butterflies sometimes and his chocolate eyes have a tendency to make my knees convert to jello and one _glance _from them sent me straight into that melty feeling that could calm even my worst nerves but I'm not in love with him.

Love and _in love_ are very different!

..Ok so I am a teeny bit _in love_ with his hands and how they feel when he holds onto my arm when we walk together. And maybe just a little _in_ love with how handsome and intelligent and witty and clever and sarcastic he is. But I am definitely not in love with him.

Oh, why does that taste like such a lie on my tongue when I try saying it out loud? I can't love my best friend! I can't ruin such an amazing thing by admitting...—er, _having_ such feelings about someone I am so close to. What would I do without him? I am a tiny, tiny bit addicted to him, but not to such an extreme that it is affecting me.

It isn't affecting me. Really. I've had bouts of insomnia before all this, too. It was around that time that Ben had shown up and Auggie had—oh.

…

Well there were other times, too.

Even now when I'm closing my eyes and counting my purposely slow breaths I can see his face in my mind's eye. I see him smiling and winking and …ugh. I groan, opening my eyes again. I can't sleep because I'll dream of him. I can't stay awake because I'll think about him.

Somebody just _drug _me and get it over with.

There must be some wine in the kitchen. Actually, I need something a little stronger. Maybe I could down the rest of the vodka and spend the night puking. That would get my mind off of him for at least a few hours, right?

Alright, I am just a little _in_ love with him. But only just a little. And he still didn't mean it when he told me he loved me.

But what if he did? What if by some strange plot twist my— woah, woah, woah. Stop right there. He was not _my_ anything. My friend. My best friend, even. But that was it. I don't need to love him, I am just fine without that sort of relationship with him. And even if he did love me, I had seen how he handled himself and it would only cause her grief trying to keep him well and on his feet and _not _up until all hours of the morning muttering to himself and writing on the computer about _God knows what_ only to say things he probably didn't mean in the morning and confuse the hell out of me.

It was two (pushing three) in the morning and I had not been able to concentrate on anything else but three small words said by the one person who could say them and poison my mind into betraying me and believing him.

Maybe some tea. Yeah. Tea would make me feel better. Calm me down. Help me sleep. I padded quietly to the kitchen to start some water on the stove. He made me tea once when I was sick and couldn't get out of bed and I whined and yelled at him to leave before he caught whatever I had and died with me. He brought it to me anyways and sat on the edge of the bed while I drank it.

Best damn tea ever.

I shut off the water on the stove and moved to the living room. I can't make tea at two a.m. What am I thinking? I'd burn the house down. Or continue on a tangent about him again. Oh, this is such a mess. I pace the dimly lit living room, hands clasped behind my back. I need to sleep because I need to be able to get up so I can see him tomorrow at work so I can stop thinking about him. He would be back to normal and most definitely not be in love with me. Except…

I am sort-of, kind-of, _maybe_ in total utter love with him.

Only not. Because I couldn't be.

Ugh! He was so impossible and irritating! Did he even know the hell he was subjecting me too? I crash on the couch with a muffled grunt. Couldn't possibly… He was… delusional and out of his mind and … didn't mean it! Couldn't mean it.

Tomorrow this would be over. But it was two...three… four a.m.? God, what time was it? Where was the clock? How long has he kept me awake without even knowing? I couldn't even die to escape this because I would be too far away from him to even consider eternal rest.

That's it. The second I see him in the morning, I am going to hit him. He has absolutely no right to make me fall in love with him. Who does he think he is? Some sort of prince charming who could just move in and sweep me off my feet? He isn't …_that_ charming anyways. He has no right!

He is _so_ dead.

He is so confusing and infuriating and oh G_od _I _am_ in love with him after all.

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><p><strong>an: Hope you all enjoyed part two! Part three is coming soon! Please review (even flames are appreciated...it's constructive critism that truly helps an author!) Thanks!**


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